by Jeff Strand
A horn, sounding much like a foghorn, goes off. I can't tell from the sound exactly where it's coming from, but everybody in the crowd looks to the left.
"Get back to your homes or a secure location immediately!" says McGarnet, though it's obvious that everybody already knows the drill, because they immediately begin to disperse. I see a lot of concern on their faces. This is not a good horn.
Horns blow at my approach.
Maybe the answer to the riddle was "Cyclops." They totally dorked that whole thing up. I should be dead now, instead of a few minutes from now.
"Did you know it was this close?" the lanky guy asks McGarnet.
McGarnet shakes her head. "No, but we've set out a fresh meal for it. It's supposed to come. That's the prophecy. That's what's going to save our asses, even if these people are too stupid to realize it." Good thing she didn't say that into the megaphone.
There's no pushing or screaming, but people are clearing out of the park as fast as they can.
Now I too start to tug against the totem pole.
McGarnet's walkie-talkie crackles. She picks it up. "McGarnet here."
I can't hear what the person on the other end says, but McGarnet seems both surprised and pleased. She nods and clips the walkie-talkie back onto her belt.
"It's moving faster than it ever has," McGarnet tells the lanky guy. "In fact, it's running."
"It's running? Really?"
McGarnet nods, then turns to look at the five of us. She smiles. "The Cyclops never runs. It must really be interested in meeting you."
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Almost everybody has abandoned us, but Denise, my favorite proponent of social justice, pushes one of the wooden barricades out of the way.
"You're still not authorized to cross the line," McGarnet tells her.
Denise ignores her and walks over to us. "Cut them free."
"That's not your decision."
"I'm not going to let you just feed them to the Cyclops. That's not the kind of people we are. Cut them free."
McGarnet turns to the lanky guy. "Gordon, please escort her from the area. It's not safe to be here."
Gordon steps toward her, but Denise holds up a hand, warning him to stay away. "You cannot order me away from here. Not when innocent lives are at risk."
"Cut us free and give us a fighting chance," says Jeannie.
"This isn't about giving you a chance," says McGarnet. She takes a revolver out of its holster, though she doesn't actually point it at Denise.
"Are you threatening me?" Denise asks.
"I am protecting your safety. I'm protecting everyone's safety. And unless you want to die along with the strangers—not killed by me, killed by the Cyclops—you'll find shelter. Don't you have a daughter? Go be with her."
Denise shakes her head. "I'm not going to let this happen."
About ten other people are still here, presumably on Denise's side, though none of them have crossed the barricade.
"Escort her out of the area immediately," McGarnet tells Gordon.
"I don't think we can do that," he says.
"What are you talking about?"
"What if you're wrong? What if the Cyclops kills them and nothing changes? Nobody will ever trust or respect you again. It's not like you can just move to a new town. We need to be sure that you're right before we offer up five sacrifices."
"I am right! The prophecy said that five strangers would arrive. Five strangers arrived. How can I be misinterpreting that?"
"It just feels like too big of a risk. We need to cut them free."
"Do it quickly," says Denise.
McGarnet stands there, no expression on her face, for a long moment. Then, looking defeated, she nods. "All right. If you think...all right. Cut them free but we're keeping them in custody."
Off in the distance, a woman screams.
"It can't be that close already, can it?" McGarnet asks.
Another scream. Maybe a couple of blocks away? It's hard to tell, but it's close enough that I really, really, really would like for them to expedite the process of cutting us free.
Gordon takes a pocketknife out of his belt. McGarnet does the same.
"Do you have a knife?" McGarnet asks Denise.
"No."
"Then get the hell out of here. You've made your point."
Denise hesitates, but then seems to decide that, yes, now is the appropriate time to depart. She hurries off.
Two more screams, one right after the other. They're coming from behind a house across the street from the park.
And then I see the Cyclops.
I began this journey not believing in the creature at all. I transitioned to, "Well, something odd is going on, but it's certainly not related to an actual living, breathing Cyclops." By the time we got to Rapport I was much more open to the idea of its existence than I ever could have possibly imagined, but still, if I were asked, "Hey, Evan, is there really a Cyclops? Yes or no?" I would have had to go with "No."
There are still other explanations, I suppose. A couple of men in a costume. A holographic projection. Side effects from the Chloroform. My complete mental breakdown. Yes, it could all be one great big elaborate practical joke, and in a few minutes, after I wet myself, the camera crew will come out of hiding and we'll all have a nice hysterical laugh at my gullibility.
Right now? I cannot accept any truth except that there is a giant freaking Cyclops coming at me.
It's got to be fifteen feet tall. Its skin is scaly and greenish-yellow. It has enormous muscles that ripple with each movement. A mouth full of fangs. Slits for a nose. Pointed ears. Talons. It's wearing nothing but a loincloth.
And, yes, it has but a single eye. The eye takes up the entire top half of its face. It's deeply bloodshot and bulges from the socket.
I scream.
I think the others are screaming as well, but I can't look away from the creature to be sure.
I'd like to pretend that I was handling this in a courageous manner, but, no, I'm in an absolute panic. I don't even know what I'm screaming. Inside my mind, I'm screaming about how I'm going to be eaten by a Cyclops, but even in my mind the words are out of order. I'm so scared that the corners of my vision are starting to go fuzzy, as if my brain has decided that the best way to protect my sanity is to make me go to sleep.
Yeah, we're all screaming. Even Harriett.
The Cyclops looks right at me as it runs toward us, clawed hands outstretched.
What a nutzo way to die, huh? Not that it's a competition, but my demise is going to be far more spectacular than my wife's. Though I still don't believe in the afterlife, if we are reunited at some point, I will have an amazing story to tell.
All of the people from the crowd are gone. Can't blame them. I'd be fleeing too, if that option were available to me.
McGarnet is also fleeing. Could be cowardice, but I'm going to give her the benefit of the doubt and assume that she's simply taking advantage of the fact that the Cyclops's early arrival means she can fulfill her own version of the prophecy without having to continue to plead her case.
Hell, maybe she's right. Why should Harriett's prophecy seem more reasonable? There are prophecies everywhere. If McGarnet's is the correct one, then the five of us should die, to save hundreds of innocent people.
I'm still on Team Harriett, though.
Gordon cuts through Seth's cuffs with his pocketknife, then drops the knife and runs away. Well, he saved one of us. Twenty percent. Better than nothing.
I wouldn't blame Seth if he ran for safety too. I'd be pissed, but I wouldn't blame him.
He doesn't. He picks up the pocketknife, accidentally drops it, picks it up again, accidentally drops it a second time (hey, my hands are shaking, too), but seems to retain his hold the third time he scoops it up.
And now the Cyclops is right in front of us.
The creature's smell is stomach churning, like wet dog mixed with rotten fruit. I'm not sure why it would smell like wet dog when it has no fur, but th
at's a question for a biologist, not me. It stops in front of the totem poles, and quickly glances at each of us, as if trying to decide which one to devour first.
Seth takes a cautious step toward Harriett.
What would be really cool right now is if the Cyclops shrugged, turned around, and ran off. Yep, I could really get behind that.
The Cyclops looks at me and furrows its brow as if in deep concentration. I'm not even going to lie and pretend that I'm not hoping it chooses one of the four other perfectly good candidates for consumption. I don't want to die. I don't want anybody else to die, either, but at this moment, quivering in terror, I don't want myself to die in particular.
The Cyclops crouches down and snarls, giving me a dose of its pungent breath. I don't know what its breath would smell like if it had recently eaten somebody, but there's no blood on its mouth or on its talons, so the screams we heard earlier probably did not come from innocent people right before they were shoved into its open mouth.
"We're here to help you," I tell it. The Cyclops doesn't look like it speaks English, or even Human, but, screw it, what have I got to lose? Most likely we're all going to die, so there'll be nobody around to tell anybody about my stupid attempt to communicate with the beast.
The Cyclops stands back up. Then it reaches for Harriett with both of its enormous hands.
It grabs her around the waist, then lifts her.
"Leave her alone!" Seth shouts. He jabs the pocketknife at the creature's side. It's a direct hit, but the blade doesn't puncture its skin.
The Cyclops lets go of Harriett with one hand, and uses that hand to smack Seth out of the way. He falls to the ground, and for a horrifying moment I think he landed on the knife, but as he rolls over I can see that it's still in his hand, blood-free.
Harriett struggles and screams as the Cyclops puts its other hand back on her and resumes sliding her up the totem pole. It's not being gentle, and I think one of her arms is twisting wrong.
"Cut us free!" Maraud shouts at Seth.
Seth charges at the Cyclops and slams the knife into its back, using both hands. It still doesn't pierce the Cyclops's hide, but it's sufficiently painful (or annoying) to make the creature let go of Harriett. She slides back down to the bottom of the pole.
The Cyclops spins around and smacks Seth again. Those claws could probably rip Seth's face right off, but the Cyclops struck him with its palm. Seth's feet do not actually lift off the ground, but he's almost airborne for a second before he falls.
Now he has the Cyclops's undivided attention. It grabs both of his legs, then heaves him into the air. Seth goes flying at least twenty feet, dropping the knife in mid-air, before he crashes to the ground.
The Cyclops turns back to Harriett and slides her back up the totem pole. As soon as her arms are past the top, the Cyclops drapes her facedown over its shoulder. She struggles and kicks and tries to bite its neck, but its grip on her is too firm.
Maraud is struggling so hard that I really start to worry that he's going to rip his arms off.
Jeannie is trying some sort of acrobat stuff where she shimmies her way up the totem pole, but it's not working at all.
The Cyclops turns away from us and walks away.
It's not going to try to kill the rest of us?
I have a flash of hope. Maybe the Cyclops is going to take Harriett back to its lair. Yes, this is a bad thing, overall, but it gives the rest of us a chance to rescue her. It's much better than the Cyclops simply taking a large bite out of her head.
It's only a flash, though. The Cyclops walks about a hundred feet away, then sets Harriett on the grass. I think it just wanted a slightly more peaceful place for its meal.
Seth gets back to his feet. He staggers over to where the knife fell and picks it up.
"Cut me free!" says Maraud.
Seth looks at Maraud and then at the Cyclops, which has crouched over Harriett. He has a split-second of indecision, apparently trying to figure out if there's time to cut Maraud free before the Cyclops begins to feast.
The Cyclops opens its mouth wide.
There isn't time.
Seth runs toward them, hollering and waving his arms to attract the Cyclops's attention.
Somehow, Jeannie is making a bit of progress, though she's only wriggled her way up a couple of feet. Not nearly enough to save Harriett.
I hate being this helpless.
McGarnet still has a knife. Surely she's watching what's happening, and surely she can see that things aren't going as expected. Or maybe they are. She never said that the Cyclops was going to eat us directly from the totem poles, like food on a stick.
Seth lets out a battle cry as he runs.
Harriett struggles frantically to get away from the creature. It gives her a brutal thump on the back to make her stop moving.
Seth almost trips, but sustains his balance and keeps running. He shouts a stream of obscenities at the Cyclops, though it doesn't seem to notice or care as it lowers its jaws to Harriett's (succulent?) shoulder.
Oh, God, it really is going to eat her.
"Over here, you son of a bitch!" Maraud shouts at the Cyclops. "Come and get us!"
"C'mon, you one-eyed prick!" I shout. Not my best insult, and possibly one of my worst, but I'm not trying to be clever.
"Gonna pick on a helpless girl?" Jeannie calls out, even though she, technically, is more helpless than Harriett right now. "Get over here! Fight us!"
The Cyclops looks over at us. It's difficult to identify its facial expression, but it's not a cheery one.
Seth dives at it.
He slams the knife against its leg. The Cyclops doesn't seem particularly bothered. As it stands up, Seth jabs the knife at it, again and again, still bellowing his battle cry.
It would be awesome if Seth could take this monster down with a pocketknife. Truly awesome.
Harriett rolls out of immediate danger, then stands up. She can't really do anything but kick, but it's one hell of a kick to the shin. It doesn't actually harm the Cyclops, but I can imagine that if it were smaller and thinner, that kick would've caused a bone to break through the skin.
Maraud, Jeannie, and I continue to shout, trying to distract the Cyclops from its most accessible prey.
The Cyclops grabs Harriett by the leg, turning her upside-down. As she thrashes around, it swings her in a circle like a cowboy with an unwieldy lasso. Seth takes this opportunity to stab it in the gut. I don't see blood or any other fluid leaking from the Cyclops, so I don't think any of his knife attacks have gotten through.
"Let her go!" Seth screams.
The Cyclops does. It flings her away. She's lighter than Seth and had built up more momentum while he was swinging her, so she goes flying quite a bit further, and hits the ground hard.
Seth, whose plan was apparently to save Harriett but not engage in hand-to-hand combat with a fifteen-foot-tall monster, starts to run toward her. But the Cyclops grabs his arm and tugs him back.
It raises its free hand as if to give him another slap, but this time it curls its fingers, showing off its talons.
The Cyclops lets out a monstrous roar. Then it slashes Seth across the chest.
Seth's back is to me, so I can't see exactly what happened, but it looks bad. I think I catch a glimpse of something red dangling from one of the talons.
Harriett shrieks.
The Cyclops roars again. Seth screams in pain as it twists his arm, and then tears it off.
It lets him go. Seth falls to the ground once again.
We're all screaming.
Suddenly gunshots ring out. Gordon fires six shots into the Cyclops's chest. I'm not sure if all six of them hit the target, but a few of them do, though none break the skin. The Cyclops snarls, puts Seth's arm in its mouth like a dog with a bone, then turns and walks away.
"Seth!" I scream. "Seth!"
Seth doesn't answer.
Gordon hurries over to my totem pole and cuts me free. "I'm so sorry," he says.
; I ignore his apology and rush over to where Seth lays.
His eyes are open. So is his chest.
I'm not a doctor, but this is unbelievably bad. If there was a team of the world's best surgeons standing right here, maybe...
I kneel down next to him. "Seth? Oh, shit, Seth."
He just stares up at the sky, eyes wide and blank.
"Stay with me," I say.
Seth blinks. Then turns his head slightly toward me. "I...I..."
"Shh. You don't have to talk."
"Yeah...yeah, I do, if I..." He coughs up some blood. "If I want any last words."
"You're not going to die."
"Yes I am."
Now Harriett is with us, tears pouring down her cheeks. "Seth, you shouldn't have done that. You should have saved yourself."
"That would be...crappy."
Maraud runs over to us. He rips off his shirt and wraps it around Seth's shoulder, even though he has to know that it's not going to do any good at this point. "You better not die on us, you lazy bum. We've still got work to do. If I have to be stuck in this town, so do you."
Seth's breathing is becoming more and more rapid. He grabs my hand. "When this is over, I need you to find my daughter. Kaylee. Find Kaylee."
"I will," I tell him. "I promise."
"She needs to know that her dad died fighting a giant Cyclops. Okay? Make sure she knows. Even if she doesn't believe you, just make sure she knows."
"She'll know you saved me," Harriett assures him.
Seth smiles. "Also...the people in my gaming group. Tell them Graspin the Colossal fought a Cyclops with a knife. I wish I could've done more, but..."
He trails off. And then he dies.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
He's dead. I can't believe that Seth is dead.
The Cyclops, gnawing on Seth's arm like a turkey leg, walks around the corner and out of sight. It doesn't seem concerned about retaliation.
"We have to kill that thing," says Maraud. "We have to avenge Seth, no matter what."
Harriett shakes her head. "This isn't about revenge. But, yes, we are going to slay it."
"Soon?"
"Immediately."
Jeannie and Gordon join us. Jeannie slams her hands over her mouth as she sees the ghastly condition that Seth is in. "Is he—?" she starts to ask, but she knows the answer to the question, and starts sobbing instead.
